


everything's changed but nothing's different

by alexanderendrone



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Aromanticism, Death, Grieving, written in a letter/diary entry style
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:48:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25888339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexanderendrone/pseuds/alexanderendrone
Summary: Amaranth's life on the farm, told through a handful of letters to his ex.
Kudos: 7





	everything's changed but nothing's different

**Author's Note:**

> this is a sad one sorry 

Dear Juno,

I have a therapist now I guess. Therapists a strong word. He’s the town doctor, and he likes to give me “helpful advice” when I go in. I go in a lot, living on a farm causes a lot of injuries. I don’t think he sees very many people, though. He’s very kind. A bit shy, and he gets flustered easily. The polar opposite of you, in many ways. I bring him coffee sometimes. He seems to appreciate it.

I was reading about this form of journaling, that you should pretend to write to someone who has no idea what you’re thinking and knows nothing about your situation. My mother was my first thought, but I think you’re much more fitting. And she returns my calls, which is more than enough communication for me. Anyways, this was more of an introduction than anything. Someone’s at the door, so I’m gonna head off. I don’t know why I’m writing this, it’s just a journal, this is-

\--

Dear Juno,

I doubt you’re very interested in hearing about life on the farm, but you aren’t ever going to see this, so… Well, maybe. If you’re reading this feel free to laugh at me. I also realized I never finished my previous journal entry, I was interrupted by someone at the door. It was the mayor, Lewis. To be honest, I’m not really sure what he wanted. He talked a whole lot but he didn’t really say anything. He’s a bit old, and lives alone. No spouse. I think he’s lonely. Birds of a feather flock together, I guess.

It’s spring time now. I could only really afford to plant parsnips, but they sell alright and they’re good in soup. I found some wild leeks too. A man in town, George, loves them but he can’t get them himself. He uses a wheelchair, I guess that makes it hard to forage. I’ve been stockpiling some to give him. He’s a bit rude, but pretty kind hearted once you get to know him. His wife is lovely too, Evelyn, she sends me baked goods in the mail. You’d love her chocolate cake, with all the frosting she puts on it.

I’ve been thinking about buying chickens. Coops are expensive to make, though, even if I’m pretty sure Robin intentionally lowers her prices. She should charge more for her buildings, they’re quite sturdy. She’s built most of the buildings in town, and she offered to do some renovations on the house. Talking about adding in a second bedroom upstairs, and fixing up the basement so it’s not a death trap. I’ll let you know how that goes.

There’s an Egg Festival, I guess it's this town's version of Easter. Everything’s a bit different here. Like it’s been moved to the left a space. I like it. It’s familiar but different enough. There’s a Flower Dance that goes on every spring, too. Everyone asks someone in town and they dance together. It’s supposed to be romantic, I think. I didn’t ask anyone.

\--

Dear Juno,

I got a chicken. I couldn’t resist the little fluffball, and Marnie, who sells the animals, cornered me. Said she didn’t need her for eggs but she was craving fried chicken. A harsh tactic, but it worked. She’s a little white chicken. Her name is Mimi. I also have a cat now, Mochi. They get along alright, I think. Mochi isn’t much of a hunter. She likes to lounge in the sun, I’ve found her on the roof more than once. She’s a bit of a scoundrel, begging for scraps everytime someone comes over like I don’t feed her premium cat food worth half the month's budget. You’d like her, I bet. She doesn’t have much energy. She reminds me of you.

Oh, yeah. I doubt you’d ever come around, but you should know, I changed my name. It’s Amaranth now. It’s a crop that grows in the fall. I like it.

\--

Dear Juno,

I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said to me when we last talked. That I was heartless. I think you may be right. Heartless is a bit rude, but you got your point across, I suppose. You said I didn’t love you. I wonder if you were projecting. I’m not sure I did anything to give off that impression.

I tried so hard, Juno.

But I guess eventually the mask starts to slip. It’s ok, Juno. I know now you didn’t love me either. I hated you, for a while. Especially after our last meeting. I wonder if we’ll meet again.

It’s spring time now, again. I’ve been collecting leeks for George. I’ve pressed some flowers too, Emily taught me how. She’s the town’s seamstress. She’s nice. A bit off putting, she always seems to know what I’m thinking. I don’t need to talk as much with her, though. I didn’t realize I missed having someone who could talk for me. I miss you. If you ever visit, you should definitely meet her. You’d like her.

\--

Juno,

Georgia stopped by today. It was raining. Lightning flashed and the raindrops mixed with her tears. It was very poetic. You would have liked it. I was going to send these letters to you, you know. I thought we had more time. I’m sorry I didn’t cry at your funeral. You were gone long before you were dead. Got my mourning out years ago.

So. Car accident, huh? A fitting conclusion, I suppose. You weren’t going to go peacefully, that’s for sure. I wonder what you were up to. Where you were going. Where you had been. She said it happened early in the morning, before the sun rose. Were you heading home? To a new job? To a friend’s? New family? I hope you found people, Juno. I know it was difficult for you. For us. And that it was just us for so long because we couldn’t fit in anyone else. Not until Georgia, at least. No one filled in my broken parts like you did, Juno. I hope you found someone who could look past your sharp edges.

Georgia didn’t know much. Said she hadn’t talked to you in years. Did you cut everyone off, or just us? Too harsh of a reminder or were you ready to be done with this part of your life? I’d understand either, I suppose. I did the same. She gave me your engagement ring. I didn’t know you still had it. I still have mine. Should I wear it around a necklace? Like a mourning widow? I’m not sure I deserve it. I wish you hadn’t kept it.

Were you in pain, Juno? Was it quick? You don’t deserve to suffer, Juno. I wish I could have said that to your face. Held you and told you that you’re deserving of love, that you are capable of giving love.

I think a lot about our last meeting. How you called me heartless.

Takes one to know one, I think.

We were too focused on everyone else, we didn’t think of ourselves. We weren’t ever in love, Juno. We were scared. We lived in a world that wasn’t made for us, the pressure of romantic love at every turn. That we were wrong for not wanting it. I understand it better now***. I accept it. I’ve found friends, who don’t try to fix my broken pieces but support me where I’m weak.

I don’t need romance anymore. I’ll die alone, I think. Just like you. Fitting, I guess. I left you, and now you’ve left me. We’re even now.

***Aromantic: having no interest in or desire for romantic relationships.  
\--

Juno,

They found your will. ‘Will’s a strong word, but apt. It’s just a piece of notebook paper, simple instructions of what to do if you died. But I guess you already knew this, having written it. Why did you write it? What made you think you needed it? The Juno I remember would have never died. We both changed, I guess.

32 years old, huh. Your late twenties must have really put you through it, if you wrote a will at 32.

You left me your cat. She’s pretty cute. Just a kitten. When did you buy her? When did you add her to your will? Why me? I went to your apartment. It was dusty. Quiet. There were pictures on the walls of people I didn’t know. You were smiling in a lot of them. You looked happy. I found your photo album. You always loved photography. I didn’t take you as one for scrapbooking, but it looks nice. Some of the pictures are of you. Not taken by you, though. I wonder who was holding the camera. Who’s birthday party was this? Who’s backyard is this? Who did you go to the zoo with? I wish I knew.

You’re dead and still tormenting me. When I first left, I kept thinking I saw you. Across the bar. Walking in the forest. Hearing you laugh at something on TV. Gave a few people in town quite a scare by suddenly shouting your name at them. I got over it. They used to ask me who you are. They don’t anymore. I suppose they forgot. Or lost interest. Probably thought I was some poor widow who lost his husband in the war and bought a farm to cope. Not entirely inaccurate. You were dead to me then, and are dead to me now.

Some things stay the same.

Things have changed, though. Georgia comes over more often. We talk about you. All good things, don’t worry. We talk a lot about all the trouble we used to get in together, the three of us an unstoppable team of mass destruction and chaos. I like the stability here but sometimes I wish I could be more like you. Roots holding loosely at the dirt, ready to be blown away in the next wind. I’ve settled here. My roots go deep, tangled with the mud and rocks and townspeople. I don’t think I could leave if I wanted to, Jodi would surely make me stay. You’d like Jodi. She’s stubborn, but motherly. She invites me over for dinner with her family. I think she’s adopted me. She really loves pancakes, I always make sure to bring her some for her birthday. Speaking of, your birthday’s coming up. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do. I don’t really know how to grieve, I guess. I told Jodi what happened. She hugged me and said she’d be there for me. I don’t know how she would be, though.

Everything’s the same but everything’s changed. You were gone and now you’re dead. It’s not much different.

\--

Juno,

I never thought we’d have a happy ending.

I could hope, I could wish, I could pray all I wanted to but I believe we were destined to end this way. Broken. Alone. With regrets, and “I should’ve”s. I should’ve called you. I should’ve visited. I should’ve sent you pressed flowers in the mail. I should’ve sent these letters to you.

The other townspeople know now, that you’re dead and gone. You were cremated, as requested. I have you, until we can find someone else. I don’t think there will be anyone else. Did you have anyone else? Maxwell’s ashes are here, too. I figured you’d want to be with him again. I loved that cat. Even if he was a little ugly. Just like you. I’m probably going to Hell with the way I’m talking to you. Well, “talking”. You shouldn’t “talk” ill of the dead, and all that. I’m sure I’ll meet you there. We can be together again, just like before. I’m not so sure that’s a good thing, anymore.

Anyways, Robin, I’ve mentioned her before, right? She’s the town carpenter. Robin and Leah, Leah’s an artist, she’s really good, are designing your urn. It’ll look really nice I think. Maxwell gets a matching one, too. I wonder what will happen to me when I die. I’m not sure if I could give us over to Georgia, I suppose she’d have to get your ashes too. That might be too much for her. I’d like to be buried on the farm, I think. Off in the corner. Maybe I should be cremated, though. Have someone spread my ashes across the farm. Less to deal with. Less expensive, too.

Huh.

“Us”. Together again.

Why me, Juno? Why’d you specify me? How did you know I’d survive? Why’d you have to leave me behind? Is this how you felt? Knowing I’ve gone somewhere you can’t follow me to? You left me behind, but I guess I deserve it. Karma. But, in the end, we’re together again.

Inseparable, just like before.

I wish we weren’t.

\--

Juno,

I made you a little shrine. It’s just a table, in the corner of my bedroom. It has your scrapbook, and some pictures I managed to scrounge up. Me and Georgia put it together. We cried a lot, but it was cathartic. Leah, the artist in town, taught me how to make a tree out of wire and paper mache. It looks pretty good, I think. The center of it holds our rings. I could write an essay on the symbolism, the meaning in every branch and leaf, but I don't want to bore you. Or myself, I guess, since you won’t read these. Your urn turned out really nice.

I’m sorry I never got to give you a proper goodbye, Juno. I may not be in love with you, but I still love you. I’m sorry that it had to end this way, but I guess in the end we’re together again.

I love you, Juno.

Forever yours,  
Amaranth

**Author's Note:**

> uhhhhh idk! I have a lot of thoughts on this! I hope I don't sound like, pretentious or anything, I wrote this for a class and its like. important to me now lafjldksfj.  
> \- It was important to me to show a relationship between characters that just. Didn't work out. And didn't really get fixed. Like I wouldn't really say it had a happy or fulfilling ending because that's just, not what it is. That's not what their story is. I think I also projected a bit here. Just the concept of having regrets and not understanding and just having questions! that you'll never get answered! It's so /frustrating/. I hope I captured that well.  
> \- another thing that was important to me is acknowledging that people grieve and handle death differently. Amaranth feels like he can't really grieve over Juno because "It's not much different." and idk. I really wanted to highlight how grieving is hard and there isn't really a Right Way to do it, and sometimes its like. idk how to phrase this, Ok To Be Unhealthy? Like its a bit fucked up that Amaranth isn't really processing Juno's death? But that's what he needs.  
> \- i think another like, interesting thing , is parallelism in amaranth and juno? like amaranth left juno and now juno's left him , and how juno died alone and amaranth is sure he's going to as well ? and how in the beginning of their relationship they were together, then they broke up, and then juno died and is "back" with amaranth now, both physically (ashes) and like. emotionally. amaranth thinks about him and like. cares about him again.   
> \- one last thing, it was fun to write smth from a limited perspective, while also using that limited perspective as a story element? Like Amaranth is telling this story about his life, sort of, but he only knows so much. He's not omnipotent, there's things he doesn't know and I feel like that's interesting? Like he doesn't know anything about Juno but through what he doesn't know he tells you about him? Like saying "The Juno I knew would have never died." that tells you about Juno's character in the past ( he was young dumb and full of yknow ;) ) and his character now ( he'd grown older and matured )! idk i dont feel like i ever see that sort of thing?\
> 
> my tumblr is @letsfluxshitup ;;; i do some art over there and i havent done anything for this Yet but I am Thinking about it ladfjsldksjfdk


End file.
